


I've been on my own for long enough (maybe you can show me how to love)

by SinpaiCasanova (Bladerunnerblue)



Series: The adventures of Steve and Bucky: Professional porn stars [4]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Bottom Bucky Barnes, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Permanent Injury, Top Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:01:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25227211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bladerunnerblue/pseuds/SinpaiCasanova
Summary: It took longer than Bucky anticipated to get a response from Steve, and granted, he did go into panic-mode pretty quickly after he sent that message, but then again, he also kind of expected a positive response that he didn’t exactly get. It’s not that Steve outright rejected him or anything, but in Bucky’s mind, a straight-forward denial would’ve been easier for him to handle than whatever this was.Bucky didn’t know what to do with “can we talk?”
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: The adventures of Steve and Bucky: Professional porn stars [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1548241
Comments: 50
Kudos: 155





	I've been on my own for long enough (maybe you can show me how to love)

It took longer than Bucky anticipated to get a response from Steve, and granted, he did go into panic-mode pretty quickly after he sent that message, but then again, he also kind of expected a positive response that he didn’t exactly get. It’s not that Steve outright rejected him or anything, but in Bucky’s mind, a straight-forward denial would’ve been easier for him to handle than whatever this was.

Bucky didn’t know what to do with  _ “can we talk?” _

Of course, he said yes. Even offered to have Steve over at his apartment for the dreaded talk that would end up ripping his heart into ragged pieces. Bucky guessed this was what he deserved after stupidly assuming Steve was into him, even though their chemistry and everything Steve said and did was screaming just that. He didn’t claim to be the most intuitive man around, but he knew when someone was interested in him.

Or, so he thought.

The whole thing with Steve put his mood right in the shitter, too, and because Bucky is constantly surrounded by people watching and waiting for his next big fuck up, his petulant sulking didn’t go as unnoticed as he’d hoped it would.

“If you pout any harder, your face is gonna get stuck like that,” His roommate and a perpetual thorn in his side, Clint Barton, casually commented from his place on the couch. He’s sitting sideways, thighs spread and phone propped up on one of the lavender throw pillows across from him. Clint wasn’t even looking at him when he’d tossed the accusation out. Didn’t need to either. He’s far too busy recording Alpine’s latest TikTok dance number to pay Bucky’s silent tantrum any mind.

“M’not pouting, you dick,” Bucky countered, arms crossed defensively, which is something a non-pouting person would do. He’s really making a case for himself with a scowl that could strip the paint off the wall, too. But whatever. He's allowed to be upset, damn it. “Just having an off day, s’all.”

Bucky’s  _ ‘off days’ _ as he called them, consisted of crippling shoulder pain that left him bedbound for days, and since opiates were off the table and over-the-counter shit didn’t touch his level of pain in the slightest, it meant toughing it out for as long as the flare-up lasted. Sometimes, mercifully, they only lasted a few hours. But others, it was a day or two of chronic misery.

It was Clint’s job, as was bestowed upon him by Natasha herself, to look after Bucky when they happened. His last flare-up was over two months ago, and since the temperatures have been steadily dropping as they head into November, he’ll be due for one of the bad ones soon.

Clint spared him an assessing glance at that before returning his attention back to his phone. He’s making the cat do some interpretive arm motions to the beat of BTS’s  _ Black Swan _ that Alpine is just about through tolerating, and the glower she’s shooting her reflection in the phone’s camera was all the warning Clint was gonna get before she inevitably struck.

“I’ve seen your off days, Champ. This ain’t it.” Clint said, infuriatingly able to see right through Bucky’s bullshit. “You wanna talk about it?”

“No,  _ Clinton _ . I don’t wanna talk about it,” Bucky’s exasperated sigh morphed into a pained groan with Clint’s easy dismissal. He really did know Bucky too well for his own damn good, but then again, living with someone for years has that effect on people. 

“Alright. But I’m here whenever you wanna unload, Bud.” Clint shrugged, a little smile pulling at the side of his mouth when he had Alpine roll her paws in time with the lyrics. The cat’s blue eyes narrowed as she growled, sharp claws flexing in preparation.

“She’s gonna bite you again,” Bucky warned, desperate to change the subject. But also, watching Clint get his fingers gnawed on by his pissed-off cat would be pretty fucking entertaining right about now.

Fuck Clint Barton and his stupid fucking face and his idiotic kind words. How can Bucky possibly sulk like the miserable wretch he is in a supportive environment like this?!

“She is not,” Clint huffed, rolling his eyes. And, of course, that was when she chose to strike. “Alpine loves me, don’t yo– _ OW!” _

With a quick but particularly vicious nip to his hand and an angry yowl, Alpine leaped off the couch and scurried across the living room to hide underneath Bucky’s bed, where she’d lie in wait to swipe at an unsuspecting Bucky’s ankles in retribution for the crimes he allowed Clint to commit against her.

Sometimes Bucky didn’t know why he loved that asshole of a cat as much as he did, but considering the fact that he found her cowering inside an overturned garbage can a year after he’d escaped a situation that left him in similar straits, he figured it had something to do with shared life experience and some philosophy about the unwanted strays of the world sticking together. Bucky’s been happily devoted to giving her a better life since then, along with giving himself some much-needed grace for his own shortcomings. 

“See, I told you,” Bucky snorted, amused. Clint shot him a scowl from across the living room, sucking on the side of his thumb where Alpine’s teeth left behind a decent indentation in the skin.

“Goddamn cultureless rat,” He grumbled around the swollen knuckle in his mouth. “I give her riches and fame and  _ this _ is what I get in return?!”

“Careful, Barton,” Bucky warned, a hard edge to his voice. He knew that Clint wasn’t serious, but at the same time, he was also weirdly defensive over Alpine, almost to a fault. “That’s my baby you’re talking about.”

Clint’s scowl turned mischievous in an instant, and Bucky’s stomach dropped like a lead balloon. He knew that look, and nothing good ever came from Clint Barton sporting a shit-eating grin.

“Yeah? Thought that title went to Rogers.”

Clint didn’t phrase it as a question either. That was a fucking statement.

Bucky just stood there for a moment, the small of his back pressed to the kitchen counter, completely in shock that Clint even knew about Steve, let alone that Bucky was sweet on him. Looking back, he assumed it must have been Natasha that told Clint. No one else knew but her, and at the time Bucky admitted he’d been thinking a little too much about Steve, she practically had to drag it out of him.

Bucky knew the rules, knew them well for good reason, but with Steve, it was like he just couldn’t help himself. Nat wasn’t exactly thrilled to learn he’d been pushing the envelope with Steve; deliberately stepping over the line between  _ "Hey, Steve's pretty cool. I wanna be his friend and stuff," _ and  _ "I've been obsessively scrawling 'Mr. James Buchanan Rogers-Barnes' all over my notebook for weeks. What a fuckin’ dreamboat."  _ But then again, Bucky was his own person who could make his own decisions, even if he'd already made a few that almost ended up killing him in the end. 

Bucky didn't need Natasha's blessing to pursue this thing with Steve. Of course he didn't. But that also didn't change the fact that he desperately wanted her to be okay with this. And so long as he’s being honest with himself, he really wanted Tony and Clint to be supportive as well, but he knew Tony would be a hell of a lot harder to win over on this front than Clint, which is not something he wanted to think about right now.

He’d cross that rickety bridge with Tony if he ever came to it, but with the way Steve sort of rejected him, he doubted he ever would.

“What?” Bucky squeaked, the color draining from his cheeks as panic swept in like the tide. He tried to school his deer-in-headlights expression into something a little more neutral, but his voice just wouldn't cooperate, coming out high pitched and cracking in between syllables. “Me and Steve–together? You  _ can't _ be serious.”

"Oh, but I  _ am,"  _ Clint began, his grin turning that particular shade of ornery that Bucky was far too familiar with by now. "But honestly, I don't think Rogers can compete with that Bad Dragon you're ridin' into the sunset every night."

Hot embarrassment settled heavily in Bucky’s gut, darkening the sudden blush on his cheeks to a lovely shade of scarlet despite the unfazed look he was attempting to sport. 

Perhaps he should stick with vehement denial? That’s always worked for him in the past.

“We’ve literally fucked each other a dozen times on camera, Clint. So what if you hear me jackin’ it in the middle of the night? Steve’s got nothing to do with it anyway, you ass.”

Clint barked out a laugh, the sound sudden and harsh in a way that had Bucky grinding his teeth together to stop himself from squirming.

Perhaps he was a little  _ too _ vehement in his denial?

“The fuckin’ walls are paper thin, you lying sack of shit!” Clint choked out around a bubble of laughter. His eyes are getting watery in that cartoonish way they do whenever he finds something particularly hilarious, and normally, Bucky’d think that Clint turning into the literal embodiment of the  _ ‘laughing so hard you cry’  _ emoji would be endearing as all hell, but right now it’s just irritating. Mostly because Bucky pissed at himself for still finding it somewhat endearing.

_ “Oh, Steve!” _ he mocked, his voice taking on that high-pitched whine Bucky does whenever he’s especially needy for dick. Clint’s bouncing his ass on the couch cushions for extra emphasis on Bucky’s wanton neediness, head thrown back in perfect mimicry of Bucky’s impending climax.

Honestly, if Bucky weren’t actively dying from embarrassment, he’d be impressed that Clint’s impersonation is so spot on.

_ “Yeah, right there, baby! Fuck me, Stevie!” _

“Shut UP!” Bucky squeaked, indignant, “you’re such an asshole!”

Clint, of course, does not shut up. If anything, he just takes his douchebaggery to another, even louder level.

_ “Mm, fuck me with that big dick, Steve! I fucking loooove you, Steve! Wanna secretly date me behind everyone’s backs, Steve? Steeeve!” _

“Fuck off!” Bucky snapped petulantly, chucking the opened box of cereal to his right–Clint’s favorite–directly at Clint’s head just to get him to stop. Thankfully and with much satisfaction on Bucky’s part, it nailed the side of his jaw with enough force that the box actually exploded, sending sugary puffs of purple cereal flying all over the apartment. “I don’t sound like that at all!”

“You said it yourself, Bud. I have intimate knowledge of what you sound like when there’s a dick in your ass.” Clint chuckled, rubbing the reddened spot that’s blooming on the bottom right of his stubbled jaw. “So yes, you  _ do _ sound like that.”

Bucky crossed his arms, pointedly looking away from Clint as the humiliation of being perceived so fucking well ate him alive from the inside. 

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

“Why?” Clint asked, his tone teasing in that way Bucky loved to hate. “You need me out of the apartment or something?”

“Actually,” Bucky began, adding a bit of bite to the word just to show he meant business. “Yes, I do.”

“Why?”

Bucky slams his left hand down on the counter a bit harder than he meant to at that, grinding his teeth at the pain that shoots from the heel of his palm clear up to his clavicle. He swallows back the yelp that’s been clawing its way up the back of his throat, knowing in the back of his mind that he’ll be paying for that little outburst soon enough. But seriously, the sheer amount of bullshit he’s had to wade through on his path to recovery is fucking insane, and if Bucky was the type to do so, he’d tell each and every one of these fuckers to fuck off and leave him be.

He doesn’t need eyes on him every goddamn second of the day, and the fact that they think so little of him, automatically assuming he’ll just go right back to the gutter he’d worked so hard to crawl his way out of, is fucking insulting on so many levels.

Bucky’s certainly a lot of things, but a lying, thieving junkie isn’t one of them. Not anymore, at least.

“God fucking damn it, Clint! I’m not gonna do something stupid the second you take your eyes off me! I’ve been fucking clean for over a year!”

“I know, Buddy,” Clint says, tone placating with his hands raised up in surrender. “You know I don’t think that about you. Right?”

Clint’s standing now, moving from the couch to the spot in the kitchen where Bucky’s been sulking for a good portion of the afternoon. Bucky doesn’t look at Clint as the blond gently takes him by the shoulders, pulling him into a warm hug that Bucky has desperately needed since this morning. 

He doesn’t know what this thing with Steve will become, and it’s stupid to put so much of himself into something that may end up breaking him in the end, but God...he’s _never_ wanted someone so bad before. 

Steve is everything he knew he didn’t deserve, not after everything he’s done, but he can’t help but want the very thing his life said he couldn’t have.

Bucky’s never known a love like this, hadn’t ever felt it in the touch of a lover before, but with Steve, he liked to imagine that it could be possible, attainable, something they could share.

But then again, maybe Bucky’s just as gullible and stupid as Tony tended to believed he was.

Bucky tentatively wrapped his arms around Clint, returning the hug as best he could with the way his arm was actively throbbing. 

“I know,” Bucky croaked, burying his face into the crook of Clint’s neck when his eyes began to well up with shameful tears he wouldn’t dare shed. “M’sorry. I shouldn't take this out on you. I’ve just been-”

“Hey, you don’t have to explain yourself, Bucky.” Clint hushed, rubbing his back to soothe the ache he knew was there. It’s always there, throbbing like his very soul is fracturing into pieces. “Look, whatever’s going on with Steve–I just want you to know that I trust your judgment. You’ve done so well, been pickin’ yourself up by your bootstraps every morning like a good little soldier, but you know what?”

“What?” Bucky asked around the sob clogging up his throat. Clint just hugged him that much tighter, the pressure and warmth from Clint’s body acting like a balm Bucky didn’t even know he needed.

_God,_ some days he didn’t know what he would do if he didn’t have a friend like Clint Barton.

“It’s okay to want things like this,” Clint softly continued, ”it’s okay to want Steve. I’m not gonna stand here and tell you that you have to be some princess shut up in a tower for the shit you’ve done in another life. I don’t want that for you, and neither does Nat or Tony. We just want you to be safe, okay?”

Bucky pursued his lips, nodding despite the doubt he felt in the pit of his stomach. It's not a stretch for him to think that Tony would want him to be alone forever, since his last little tryst with Grant Ward was especially disastrous. Tony hadn't let him forget how much it cost for him to let Grant go, and he still got funny looks sometimes from Rollins and Rumlow over it, but it had to be done.

Granted, Bucky was just as much at fault for what happened as Ward was, and maybe Tony should have cut him loose as well, seeing as how this last fuck up nearly cost him his arm and his life, but despite all of that, he's grateful Tony didn't.

Tony's grace allowed Bucky to meet Steve, for that, he'll be forever thankful. 

Just then, before things could really veer into sentimental territory, Bucky's phone pinged with a new message from Steve.

He gingerly disentangled himself from Clint's embrace, grabbing his phone from the counter to read what Steve wrote.

The text is short and simple, just asking if Steve had permission to come over in a bit to have that conversation Bucky's absolutely dying to avoid. 

Of course, the answer was a resounding "yes", though Bucky tried to play it off like he was the one doing Steve a favor by agreeing to it in the first place, even though the thought of having Steve in his space excited him in ways he's not yet willing to analyze. 

_ Fuck, _ he's hopeless when it comes to Steve. 

Clint gave his hand a light squeeze, seemingly picking up the atmospheric shift that happened the moment Bucky's phone went off. 

He's scarily perceptive like that.

"I'll be at Nat's for the night, okay," Clint offered, and Bucky couldn't help the way his eyes lit up at the prospect of so much privacy. "Just text me if you need anything."

Bucky swallowed thickly, nodding quietly. 

He watched as Clint turned to leave, grabbing his keys from the bowl by the door on his way out. 

But suddenly, Clint stopped.

"Hey, Bucky?" Clint called out, hand still on the knob, the door wide open. There's a light-hearted smile on his face that made something he couldn't quite name loosen up in Bucky's chest, as if he were saying that everything would be alright.

"Yeah?" Bucky chanced.

Clint's smile turned a little wicked at the edges, lips curling up like he knew a juicy secret Bucky didn't.

"Tell Steve I said hi."

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me what you think ❤


End file.
